


If Found, Return to Road

by Jabberwockyx



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Beachrat, Day At The Beach, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Illustrations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 12:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17488415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jabberwockyx/pseuds/Jabberwockyx
Summary: Junkrat and Roadhog abandon their elaborately planned heist in favor of a well-earned holiday to the beach. Hijinks ensue. Accompanied by illustrations by iopichio and written for the Roadrat Charity Zine 2018.





	If Found, Return to Road

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in collaboration with my lovely partner iopichio for the Roadrat Charity Zine! She did some AMAZING illustrations for this fic -- I'll include the link to the tumblr post in the notes at the end so you can reblog 'em, bc you totally should, they're glorious as shit. As you read, click on the embedded links to see the corresponding picture! Oh, and without spoiling the fic: keep in mind that this was written before something in-game was retconned.

They hadn't _planned_ on going to the beach. Like all of Junkrat's ill-advised ideas, it had just kind of _happened_.

All it took was a glimpse of a billboard.

"What?" Roadhog said when Junkrat glanced longingly over his shoulder for the third time at the receding sign.

Junkrat heaved [the long-suffering sigh](https://66.media.tumblr.com/b7c711815aeed65fa1194c9d2e928129/tumblr_pljqpdtMEc1rei9jio9_r1_1280.jpg) of someone with the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Mate, I know we've been plannin' this heist for days—"

"Weeks."

"— _weeks_ , but I _really_ got a hankerin' to go to the beach roight about now. I ain't never been to one before, and didya _see_ that billboard back there? What a ripper! All sunny skies and blue seas for days. Plus, that water _probably_ won't make ya sick. No two-headed fish either, I reckon—"

Roadhog took his eyes off the road long enough to give him a _look_. His mask was as impassive as ever, but Junkrat could _sense_ him telling him to slow down, take a step back, and think about the actual situation at hand. If he was taking the time to actually look at him, he was being serious. When Roadhog was behind the handlebars of his motorcycle, there were only two things that existed in his world: himself and the stretch of road that laid ahead of him. Junkrat understood. When he got wrapped up in his work, he was _gone_.

If Roadhog wasn't immediately agreeing with him on the many meritorious qualities of the beach, he clearly thought that going to the beach was the wrong decision. Well, they _had_ been planning the heist for weeks, but—

"Roight!" Junkrat snapped his fingers, sparks shooting out as the flint embedded in his thumb struck against grooved steel. "All our hard work!" He gestured beneath him at the jumble of metal and fabric that served as his throne. He had constructed dozens of mines from scraps of salvaged metal, and Roadhog had hand-sewn them disguises: a scarecrow and a pirate.

"No worries, we can definitely come up with some other genius plan to make good use of our inconspicuous disguises." He stroked the cloth of Roadhog's shark mask affectionately. He had forced Roadhog to make the cover for his gas mask; by definition, the whole _point_ of being inconspicuous was so no one could see your face. Roadhog's trademark snouted gas mask with its stitched up mouth was, for all intents and purposes, his face. A properly inconspicuous disguise needed to hide this. As Junkrat had passionately declared from atop their breakfast table, it was the one of the basic principles of thievery.

Roadhog didn't react, so Junkrat's brain kept churning. "Oh." He looked down at the pile of mines he was perched upon. "Can't really do my grand finale if we don't do the heist, now can I?"

"Not really."

Junkrat grinned at Roadhog. "What, you worryin' about me, ya big lug? Always got me best interests at heart, you do."

Roadhog did raise a valid concern, however. He _had_ been fantasising about this explosion for what felt like a century.

"Go to the beach… or blow shit up. Decisions, decisions…" Junkrat drummed his fingers against the side of the sidecar.

"Beach," he said, nodding his head firmly. "Definitely the beach."

"You sure?" Roadhog asked.

"Sure, I'm sure! What kind of guy do ya take me for?"

Roadhog flicked on his blinker. Junkrat lunged and latched onto Roadhog's arm. "No, no, no, I changed my mind! Explosions! The heist! I gotta do the explodey thing— no, no… I can set them off back home… there's only one beach. The beach it is."

He had worked himself into a sudden tizzy, and as quickly as the panic descended upon him, he calmed down.

He released Roadhog's arm and sat back down, having awkwardly half-stood up to bridge the gap between the sidecar and motorcycle.

"Don't ever do that again," Roadhog finally said after a few seconds of judgemental silence.

"Can't promise nothin', y'know how I get. But I'll do my level best. Anyways. My decision's final." Junkrat leaned out of the sidecar and poked Roadhog's belly. "So c'mon already, let's forget about all this, just chuck a u-ey, and go to the beach instead! Whaddya say?"

Roadhog mulled it over for a second before shrugging. "No skin off my nose," he grunted. He acquiesced to Junkrat's request and made a highly illegal U-turn, cutting across the dividing line of the mercifully deserted road.

The sidecar tipped on its wheels as they swung around to head in the opposite direction. Junkrat gripped the sides, holding on for dear life as he screeched with laughter.

His excitement mounted as the billboard came into view once more. He gave a jubilant shout and pointed at it until Roadhog finally acknowledged him with an "I see it."

They blew right past the exit that led to the beach.

"No!" Junkrat shrieked. "'Hog, you missed it! You missed it, 'Hog!" He leaned out of the sidecar again to slap Roadhog's arm. "'Hog. Roadhog. Mate. My friend. Turn this bloody bike around right the fuck now, the beach is that way!" He jabbed his finger in the opposite direction.

" _You_ can go starkers if you want," Roadhog replied. " _I_ need togs." He paused. "And snacks. A book too."

" _Ohhhhh,_ " Junkrat said, slapping his forehead with the palm of his hand. Supplies. Of course. "Roight! Good thing I've got you, eh? I'd forget me own head if it weren't screwed on."

Roadhog snorted. "It's not."

\---

They raided the shops. Junkrat was absolutely enamoured by a tire shaped like a rubber duck and began talking Roadhog's ear off about how he could engineer it so it functioned like his RIP-Tire.

He was trying on various visors when Roadhog approached him.

"Here." He handed over a small package. "Floaties. So you don't drown."

Junkrat looked at the picture on the box of float bands. A mother supported her young, tow-headed child as he paddled in the water.

"Yeah, can't argue with you there," he agreed. He had all the swimming skills of a toddler, given that he'd never so much as set foot in a pool, let alone visited the beach.

He ripped open the box, blew up the inflatable armbands, and stuck them on his arms. The two of them already attracted plenty of attention as it was, and Junkrat wasn't helping matters by sporting bright orange floaties, a matching set of sunglasses and a sun visor, a rubber ducky inner tube slung around his neck, and a pair of neon blue boardies draped over his arm.

Not that Roadhog was any less conspicuous: his arms were laden with snacks and soft drinks, the one pair of togs he'd managed to find that would fit him, and a trashy summer beach read featuring a shirtless man with brooding eyes and impossibly well-defined abs.

A few impulse decisions later, they dumped all of their purchases on the poor cashier's counter. Under ordinary circumstances, they would have made a run for it, but a wild police chase would have been counterproductive to their mission.

The cashier began ringing up their purchases, stealing nervous little glances at the two very large men looming over her.

"Uh," she began, then cleared her throat and tried again. "You have to pay for those." She pointed at the floaties that Junkrat still proudly wore.

"What?" Junkrat had been cleaning out his ear with his pinkie finger instead of paying attention. "These old things?" He flicked the excavated earwax onto the ground. " _Nahhh._ I came in here wearin' these."

"He did," Roadhog confirmed. "I saw him."

"They're our brand," the cashier said, her voice growing faint.

"Well, of _course_ they are! Number one floatie brand in Oz, as if I’d wear anything else — what kinda bogan do ya take me for?" He knew bugger all about the popularity of float band brands, but he was committed to this story.

"I'm still—that's not—"

"Y'callin' me a liar, now?" Junkrat accused. "Do I really look like the kinda guy who'd lie to ya?" He drew himself up to his full 200cm, puffing his chest out. "I am an honest, upstanding gentleman, and _you_ don't get to judge me for wearin' floaties to the shops!"

"Okay!" The cashier caved, clearly deciding that this was not the hill she wanted to die on. "Okay, forget I said anything!"

Junkrat grinned, wide and sharklike, as Roadhog paid her. The bills they used were crisp and clean, entirely at odds with their filthy clothes and general slovenliness, and they were very obviously acquired through illegal means.

"Ta!" Junkrat said with a jaunty little salute, scooping up his prizes and sprinting for the door before she could call the police.

The beach awaited them.

\---

["Stop staring," Roadhog said](https://66.media.tumblr.com/ced2e94cb545ac0313e307d2bb9a0d2d/tumblr_pljqpdtMEc1rei9jio5_r1_1280.jpg), covering Junkrat's head with one massive hand and pushing him away.

Junkrat giggled madly. He hadn't been able to stop ogling Roadhog since he changed out of his overalls. The patriotic blue speedos provided very little cover, and after his immediate advances were rebuffed (" _Later,_ " Roadhog had told him, a promise that Junkrat intended to hold him to), Junkrat had settled for keeping his eyes glued to him as they made their way across the crowded beach.

As the horde of beachgoers thinned out, Roadhog stopped at a relatively deserted patch of sand and set down his large wicker basket. They'd repurposed the decoy gift hamper that had been a key element of their planned heist, replacing plush pachimari and bombs with beach supplies. "Here's good." He removed the umbrella and folding chair he had tucked under his arm and set them up while Junkrat surveyed the territory.

"It's gonna be a perfect day, isn't it, Roadhog?" He beamed as he gazed out at the beach, rich with possibilities. "So! What do we do first? Venture out into the great unknown of the majestic ocean? Build a good old fashioned sand castle? Terrorise the innocent?"

Roadhog handed him a bottle of sunscreen.

"Oh. Put on sunscreen." Junkrat rolled his eyes. He never wore sunscreen normally, and he was just fine -- he'd developed tan lines from the harness and canteen he permanently sported. "Pretty sure we got nothin' to worry about, big guy. Also, I hate to break it to ya, but this little thing--" He waggled the bright yellow bottle in Roadhog's face "--ain't enough to cover the both of us. Not with all this." [He hugged Roadhog's belly. "What a beauty."](https://66.media.tumblr.com/0bcf91c06e412aede2b6bd997e76a354/tumblr_pljqpdtMEc1rei9jio8_r1_1280.jpg)

"Put on the sunscreen," Roadhog told him, and Junkrat pulled a face at him. "I got a t-shirt."

In an act of rebellion, Junkrat merely slapped a glob of sunscreen on his nose while Roadhog pulled the t-shirt on over his head.

He couldn't see Roadhog's expression, but he had the distinct impression that his partner was eyeing him suspiciously.

"What?" Junkrat said, eyes widening in angelic innocence. "I'm quick, I did the rest of me too! And if that bloke up on his fancy tall chair can do _this_ , then so can I!" He pointed at his nose, then at the handsome lifesaver on his throne.

Roadhog decided not to pursue the subject. When engaging with Junkrat, he had to pick his battles.

"Whatever you say," he said. He reached into the hamper, causing his too-tight shirt to ride up even further, and Junkrat couldn't help but grin. "I got you something else."

Junkrat gave a small gasp. "And it isn't even my birthday!" He made grabbing motions with his hands. "Let's have at it then! Y'know me, I love surprises, I love prezzies, can't really go wrong here."

Roadhog dropped a black rubber bracelet into his outstretched hands. Junkrat stared at it blankly for a few seconds before turning it over and reading aloud: "If found, return to." He looked up at Roadhog, utterly bewildered.

Roadhog produced a marker from the basket of holding, took the bracelet, and signed his name. "If found, return to Roadhog."

Junkrat slipped the bracelet around his wrist and quietly studied it for a few moments. He traced Roadhog's signature with his finger: the letters R-O-A-D and a speedometer symbol, the tag he had earned in his days in the Australian Liberation Front.

He sprang to his feet. "I have many questions," he announced. "One!" He thrust his pointer finger into the air. "Are ya plannin' on getting separated from me? Why do I need a safety bracelet if we're gonna have a flaming good time at the beach _together_? Two!" He held up a second finger, steamrolling directly into his next question and not even giving Roadhog a chance to explain. "How would this thing even work, no one's gonna know who this 'Roadhog' is, who they're supposed to be returnin' poor, little, lost me to, anyway. Three!" He continued ticking off his questions on his fingers. "Don't really care for the immediate implications of it, but I gotta say, I'm enjoyin' the overall sentiment of being linked with ya. I'm touched, mate. Honest."

He paused and scratched his head beneath the band of his visor. "That one's not really a question. More of an observation. My real, overarching question is: okay, but why. Why here and now?"

Roadhog held up one of his own fingers to answer each of Junkrat's points. "Not planning on it, no. Just figured you'd wanna cause mayhem. I'm staying right here." He held up a second finger, then dropped his hand so that he could remove his own shirt and write the words "I'm Roadhog" on them while Junkrat gaped at him. After tugging it back over his head, he held up a final finger. "Good."

Junkrat finally recovered. "You're _staying here_?" he said, biting each word off in utter disbelief. "What, you're just gonna sit there all day?" he said. "Just laze under the brolly like some suit on holiday?" It was the most grievous insult he could think of, and he heaped it with contempt.

Roadhog did not take the bait and instead cracked open his book.

Junkrat gave a guttural groan. "Oh come _on_ , you're telling me this doesn't appeal to ya?" [He motioned at the beach with one wide sweeping gesture.](https://66.media.tumblr.com/fd253a9748bf7ae42bc3834e809845ff/tumblr_pljqpdtMEc1rei9jio2_1280.png) "We could cause mayhem _together!_ "

"We can cause mayhem any day."

This was a good point, but Junkrat would sooner eat his own boot than admit that. "Not at the _beach_ , though!"

"It's my holiday too."

Junkrat let out a huff of air and plopped back down on the ground. Roadhog daintily turned the page of his book, paying Junkrat no mind as he glowered at him.

Junkrat simply could not understand why Roadhog would rather sit on the beach and read than get up to mischief with him. He scooted around behind Roadhog and peeked over his shoulder. His book looked positively boring. No interesting diagrams or _nothing_.

"Okay," he said, resting his chin on Roadhog's shoulder. Being argumentative was getting him nowhere, so he tried reasoning. "But why would ya read that tripe, when y'could be paying attention to _me_?"

"The book's more interesting."

Junkrat snorted. "Oh, what a crock. Find me a bloke more interesting than me, and I'll up yer share to fift-- _sixty_ percent."

Roadhog flipped the page.

Junkrat had the distinct impression that Roadhog was snubbing him, and he did not care for it at all. [He wriggled his lanky body over Roadhog's shoulder](https://66.media.tumblr.com/0cd43ceefc1d250aed748564a6b82790/tumblr_pljqpdtMEc1rei9jio4_1280.png), delivering a solid elbow to the face as he wormed his way into his lap.

He grinned up at his partner and waggled his fingers. "G'day!"

Roadhog pushed him off his lap and into the sand.

Junkrat bounded to his feet and dusted himself off. "Oh, so that's how it is, then?" he said, making sure to emphasise exactly how deeply offended he was. "Fine! Fine! I'm gonna go have a grand ol' time without you, y'can bet yer boots on that!"

"Have fun," Roadhog said as Junkrat hiked the rubber ducky tube up around his waist and stalked off.

He plopped down at the edge of the water, stewing in his own fury. He allowed himself a few moments to sulk before he stood up and dramatically gazed at the ocean, vowing that he would get Roadhog to pay attention to him if it was the last thing he did.

The waves lapped at his feet, and he yelped, dancing backwards as a clump of seaweed tangled around his pegleg.

He gathered his bearings. He had planned on enjoying both surf and sand with Roadhog, but if his partner wouldn't indulge him in either of those things, he would win him over -- and he had the perfect plan. Food was the way to Roadhog's heart, and Junkrat wasn't above bribery.

He snuck out to the car park, ducking behind giant, inflatable pool toys and perplexed beachgoers to avoid being seen by Roadhog.

Junkrat straightened out once he hit the tarmac. He planted his hands on his hips and held his chin high, breathing a sigh of satisfaction. "Another successful getaway. Quite the escape artist, I am, if I do say so myself."

He slammed his hands on the counter of the ice cream truck, startling the omnic employee. "I will take _all_ of yer ice cream," he said, voice puffed up with grandiose self-importance. "Well, as much as I can carry, anyway."

The omnic's sensors blinked at him. "You can't afford my entire stock. And then there would be none left for the children," it said. Its voice was tinny and artificial, and it sent a prickle up Junkrat's spine.

He rested an elbow against the countertop and walked his fingers up and down its length. "Mate, I've got heaps of cash just sittin' around. I'm filthy rich, don't you tell me what I can and can't afford!" He never had any intention of paying for the ice cream in the first place, but he would not let an omnic besmirch his honour. He'd earned every penny inside his and Roadhog's treasure room.

"You certainly are filthy," the omnic observed.

Junkrat froze, one finger still poised in the air. His eyes narrowed. It was not an incorrect observation, and coming from anyone else, he would have happily agreed. From the voicebox of an omnic, however, it sounded like an insult.

He batted a cup of plastic straws off the counter in retaliation and stormed off. "And I don't care about the children!" he shouted.

Junkrat paced back and forth in front of their chopper. This wasn't his first time pulling a stunt like this; he and Roadhog had robbed an ice-cream truck in Paris with spectacular results. This time, however, he didn't have Roadhog's hook or his muscle at his disposal.

He rummaged through the sidecar, shoving aside their handcrafted disguises in favour of one of his mines and his detonator. "Smoke 'em out," he muttered to himself with a manic giggle.

He started to head back towards the ice cream truck, filled with a newfound vigour, when he drew up short. He took off his visor and looped it around his arm for safekeeping, then grabbed the burlap scarecrow mask and pulled it on, drawing it taut so the tuft of  straw hair stuck straight up and the stitched grin split his face in two.

" _Inconspicuous_."

Confident that his identity was obscured, Junkrat crept back to the ice cream truck and ducked behind a litter bin. Fortune was not on his side, however; every time he attempted to leave his hiding spot, there was a hapless family buying ice cream and blocking his path, or the omnic was casually leaning out the window and gazing at the beach.

Junkrat sparked the flint embedded in his thumb, one of many tics he had picked up throughout the years. With every spoiled opportunity, the tight knot of tension in his chest grew, and he needed some kind of outlet for the ball of pent-up energy.

Finally, the coast was clear, and he seized the moment when the omnic turned its back. He sprang into action, leaping from his cover and tossing the mine through the open window with a cry of "Fire in the hole!"

He clicked the button of his detonator, and as the interior of the ice cream truck exploded in a glorious burst of smoke and shrapnel, Junkrat shuddered, mouth opening in a silent " _oh_."

But he didn't have time to bask in the afterglow that came with a truly satisfying explosion; the omnic stumbled out the back of the truck, its voicebox crackling with static.

 _Good_ , Junkrat thought to himself. He _hoped_ the omnic lost his voice. At least then it wouldn't be able to identify him when the authorities came sniffing around.

Of course, it couldn't possibly know that this masked maniac was the same man who had harassed it earlier.

He _was_ wearing a disguise, after all.

"Outta my way, ya drongo!" Junkrat shouted, elbowing past the omnic and vaulting into the ice cream truck. The mine had decimated the icebox, splattering ice cream everywhere, but he was able to rescue a handful of ice cream bars.

He booked it back to the beach, swapping out his mask for his visor once he was certain he was well out of the omnic's line of sight.

Junkrat slowed down when he saw Roadhog. He'd broken into the beach snacks, pushing his mask up _just_ far enough to shovel Cheezels into his mouth.

Junkrat sat down on the bag, shifting around until the crunching subsided, presumably because its contents were reduced to powder. He offered a melting ice cream bar instead.

["Golden Gaytime?"](https://66.media.tumblr.com/c13bc9dfd6cd98dfec1a817c8a4c5383/tumblr_pljqpdtMEc1rei9jio3_1280.png) he said, flashing him a wide, innocent grin.

Junkrat always treasured the rare moments when he was allowed to see part of Roadhog's face, because then he could actually _see_ his emotions instead of just _sensing_ them. He couldn't help but beam, hands clasped under his chin, when Roadhog smirked and accepted the ice cream.

"Thanks."

"Sure," Junkrat said, unwrapping his own and shoving it in his mouth before it could drip all over his arm. He wasn't entirely successful. "Ain't the only gay time I'll be givin' ya today, mind you."

Roadhog chuckled. " _Yeah._ " His voice was a deep rumble, the kind that reverberated in Junkrat's bones and stirred a primal sort of hunger in him.

An involuntary noise slipped out of him [as Roadhog leaned over to kiss him](https://66.media.tumblr.com/a6c88cb7234fe2e0d3ca52d3a09c8abb/tumblr_pljqpdtMEc1rei9jio1_1280.png), in spite of—or because of?—the mess of melted vanilla and toffee and honeycomb biscuits.

He licked his lips as he pulled away, leaving Junkrat momentarily stunned.

It only took him a second to recover, but by then, Roadhog had already returned to his book. He tried to jump him, but Roadhog easily brushed him aside.

Junkrat growled. Desperate for attention, he picked up the other two ice creams he had managed to nab and shoved them in Roadhog's face.

"Look, I got another Golden Gaytime!" he said, the entirely melted bar sagging grotesquely in its wrapper. "Or, or a Drumstick if that's more your fancy!"

"I already have food. Push off." Roadhog shoved him aside and reached for the wicker hamper, which Junkrat sincerely regretted not destroying alongside the Cheezels.

Junkrat slunk off, casting a dark look over his shoulder at Roadhog, who had propped a bag of snacks on his belly to feast off while he read.

He was forced to admit that the ice cream was not his greatest idea. Food _was_ the way to Roadhog's heart, but his success was curbed by the fact that Roadhog already had plenty of it.

He kicked at the sand and muttered to himself. He needed to pull off something grand, a dastardly deed that would make Roadhog think twice about  telling him to shove off in the future (he was a _delight_ and a _treasure_ , and Roadhog should be grateful for his company). He needed a stunt so egregious that _no one_ would dare to ignore him.

Junkrat was jolted out of his reverie when two screaming children ran past him. Armed with massive water guns, they were the second biggest nuisance on the beach. No one was safe from their tyranny, as they blasted each other and various strangers with surprisingly powerful jets of water. It was admirable, really.

A wide grin snaked across Junkrat's face. Revenge was a dish best served flaming hot, but in a pinch, water would do. "I've gotta get me one of those."

Asking them was pointless. They were maybe ten years old and wouldn't cave as easily to the demands of a strange adult.

An ambush was the only logical solution.

He mustered up the courage to enter the shallows of the ocean, safely encircled by his rubber ducky tube, and hunkered down so only the tip of his nose peeked out over the tube. The children continued treating the beach as their obstacle course, and he waddled on his haunches through the shallow water to keep pace with them.

When their water guns ran dry, they waded into the ocean to refill the canisters. Junkrat chose that moment to strike, drifting over in his inner tube like a crocodile approaching its prey. He burst out of the water near them with a tremendous splash, laughing madly as the boy nearest him screamed and dropped his water gun, which floated within his grasp.

Junkrat grabbed his prize and crawled out of the water. He weaved his way back to Roadhog, as if he wasn't a neon blue and orange target that could be heard halfway across the beach.

Roadhog was still engrossed in his book, and Junkrat planted himself squarely in front of him, water gun at the ready.

"Hey, 'Hog," he said, affecting a nonchalant tone. " _Water_ you readin'?"

He snickered at his own pun and unleashed a blast of water, drenching Roadhog and his book.

Roadhog didn't move for a few chilling seconds.

In that moment, Junkrat realised that he'd made a mistake. A big mistake. Huge, even. His life flashed before his eyes.

"Needed more explosions," he mumbled to himself.

Roadhog slowly looked up from his soaking wet book.

If looks could kill, Junkrat was fairly certain that Roadhog's would burn straight through his mask and obliterate him where he stood.

Junkrat weakly lifted his hand and waved at him.

Roadhog hauled himself out his chair.

Junkrat bolted.

He chanced a glance over his shoulder...

And ran straight into a brick wall.

He staggered back and looked up at the obstacle; a burly security guard.

His shenanigans had finally caught up to him. Deciding that he'd rather face an angry Roadhog than own up to his actions, he about-faced, but the guard grabbed his wrist before he could make his escape.

"Oh, no you don't, you little—what's this?" The guard examined Junkrat's safety bracelet.  "If found, return to road." He snorted. "Good suggestion, we'll boot you right out there."

"'Hog,'" Junkrat helpfully supplied, shaking out the bracelet and pointing at the rest of Roadhog's signature.

The guard's beady eyes narrowed. "You calling me a pig?"

Junkrat burst out laughing.

"No, no," he managed in between sputtering giggles. "Just talkin' about my good ol' pal, Roadhog." He twisted around in the guard's grip to find Roadhog, who was doing his best to distance himself from the situation. He raised his voice. "Great guy, the kinda mate who always gets me out of trouble..." Roadhog was not picking up on his cues, so he added, "Roight, Roadhog?" and shot him a look.

The guard followed his gaze.

"I've never seen this man before in my life," Roadhog said flatly.

Junkrat gasped so hard he choked on his own saliva.

"Your shirt matches his bracelet," the security guard pointed out. "You're coming too."

Roadhog looked down at it, then back up at the guard. He heaved a sigh and followed as Junkrat was escorted from the beach.

After being unceremoniously ejected into the carpark, where the ice-cream truck still smoldered, Junkrat rounded on his partner. "Ohh, fat load of help you were!"

Roadhog shrugged. "Didn't have a gun. Or my hook."

Junkrat was not buying this excuse. "Y'coulda punched him for me!" he said, lifting Roadhog's hand with its weighty rings. "Coulda really decked him good!" He began pacing back and forth. "I didn't even get to go swimming!" he moaned. "Not proper swimming, anyway. This is all yer fault!" He pointed an accusatory finger at Roadhog.

If Roadhog was seething, Junkrat was too oblivious to notice.

"No, no…" he said, realisation slowly dawning on him. "This isn't yer fault…"

Roadhog stared at him, watching and waiting to see if this revelation would lead to a breakthrough moment for him.

Junkrat stopped pacing and pounded his fist. "It's all that bloody security guard's fault! We were gettin' on just fine until that wanker went and ruined our fun!"

Roadhog held up his sopping wet book.

Junkrat at least had the decency to look contrite. "Okay, maybe that part's not entirely true," he admitted. "Still." He leaned back against the sidecar. "Is it just me or is it getting hotter?" He could feel the heat beginning to prickle uncomfortably at his ears, and his torso was turning an unpleasant shade of pink.

Roadhog slapped him on the back, and Junkrat yelped in pain, because _oh_ , that _stung_ \-- his back was always protected by his RIP-Tire, and the sunburn had ravaged it.

"It's just you." Roadhog laughed.

"Okay," Junkrat said, whimpering only a _little_. "I deserved that."

"Yeah." Roadhog rummaged around in the boot of the motorcycle. "Turn around."

Junkrat obeyed, and he sighed at the sweet relief of cool aloe vera against the stinging burn and Roadhog's firm, reassuring hands.

"So, how are we getting revenge?" Roadhog asked. He'd apparently decided that the sunburn was punishment enough, and he was fully on board with Junkrat's vendetta against the security guard.

Junkrat's face lit up. "I thought you'd never ask!"

**Author's Note:**

> So obviously this was written before they changed Junkrat's Beachrat skin bracelet but I still prefer the original version tbfh. 
> 
> Anyways. *will smith pose* Please ogle the collected assortment of illustrations from io!! This fic would not shine without them!! https://iopichio.tumblr.com/post/182171494236/heres-the-work-i-contributed-to-the
> 
> Thank you all for reading and as always, let me know if there's anything else you'd like to see from me!


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